


Collateral Damage

by sryr



Series: dave spoiled by two idiots [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Incest, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 02:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20283541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sryr/pseuds/sryr
Summary: One way or another, Hal would make Dirk accept his help.





	Collateral Damage

**Author's Note:**

> here it is! the companion piece! it's miserable and i was sad writing it, so please enjoy it being sad with me. i apologize if it feels more inconsistent than usual, i didn't feel up to asking someone to read it over and i wrote chunks of it while a bit out of it. i might try and do another proper edit in a week or so, but i really wanted to just post it since it's already going up later than i wanted.

TT: Despite all my apparently futile efforts, I'm once again here to remind you that I’m here at any time to help.    
  
TT: You’ve been at it for days and you know what they say about fresh perspectives. I’m your better half anyway so I’m sure whatever it is you’ve been stuck on I could handle.

TT: If you think insulting me is a valid effort at persuading me to hand over my project, I don’t think I really trust your intelligence in the slightest.    
  
TT: As you so nicely put it, we’ve had this conversation before, so you already know my answer.    
  
TT: Are you so bored that you can think of nothing better to do than distracting me and wasting my time?

TT: No, you’re just even more of a pain in the ass when you get like this.

TT: Get like what? Do you expect me to enjoy you belittling me and dragging me away from things constantly? If you didn’t keep bothering me, I’d likely be done by now.

TT: There’s a 78.64% chance that’s complete bullshit, but you’re right, I’m the asshole.    
  
TT: Dinner’s here whenever you deem yourself free enough to take a break.

Okay, so maybe Hal’s bored out of his skull. Dave was out of state visiting friends for a chunk of the summer, and none of his own friends seemed to have time for much either. Normally, he’d take advantage of the free time as he technically had things he could be working on, but none of them seemed appealing. The walls of his room were starting to feel claustrophobic for no real reason in particular and inevitably when he’d found himself actually yearning for human contact, his twin was too fucking busy to pay him any mind too. 

That wasn’t even something he had intentions of admitting since Dirk already seemed to have a hard enough time assuming anything he said was genuine, but he always got more prickly if he was having trouble with something. Last week, Hal had nearly gotten his head chewed off for entering Dirk’s room while he was trying to do maintenance on Squarewave, and apparently, made him fuck up some wiring that took an extra hour to fix. This week it was a programming commission. Both instances he’d offered his assistance, but as usual Dirk couldn’t handle the mere thought of it without getting his pride wounded. 

He spins a circle in his chair wondering if maybe he should binge something for a distraction or cave and try to be productive himself, but as the chair finishes its rotation, he hears the familiar sound of Dirk’s door opening and closing. When he strains further, he’s surprised to hear the front door close after the fact. For a minute there, he’d sincerely thought he was going to break properly and eat something.

Hal gives it one more minute of confirmation that Dirk would be gone for a bit longer, before letting himself in his twin’s room once again. If he left, then that either meant he was going to the convenience store down the street or up to the roof for a bit. Either option had a high likelihood of being correct, and if he weren’t in a hurry, he’d make a proper estimate. Ideally, if Dirk was up on the roof that would mean he had more time, but even with the store it was a good twenty minute round trip. Just the amount of time he needed.

As expected, Dirk had left the project up on screen, no less with the part of the code that had been giving the compiler the most hassle. It took him an extra moment to find where the details of the commission were hiding on the mess that was Dirk’s desktop — Hal didn’t have much room to speak; his wasn’t much better — and skim over the rest of the code to get a sense of what it was supposed to do. There’s a mental timer counting down an approximation of how much time he has left to sort this out, but with ease, it’s clear where the problem was. Since Dirk had been staring at it and doing the rest of the work all in one go, of course he’d missed an obvious mistake with one of the classes he was trying to construct and use in the line that was drawing errors. 

Honestly, the more Hal glanced over things he couldn’t help feeling parts of it seemed almost… sloppier than usual? Why hadn’t Dirk thought to look where the problem was? It felt obvious that was where it would be. More so, some of the variable placements he chose to use looked so inefficient. 

Without really intending to do much else than fix the problem and leave an obnoxious comment in the code for Dirk so he’d at least message him something, he’d already tided up even more of the code than he’d meant to, which… would probably do more than just irk Dirk. If his estimation was right, and unfortunately, he was always right, he should have left to go back to his own room about a minute and forty-three seconds ago. He meets Dirk unsurprisingly in the hallway between their rooms as the reality of what he’d done as well as the recognition of his own pun registers, but it only causes a chagrined laugh to leave his lips.

Dirk doesn’t return his laugh or even greet him. The stare behind his shades is frigid and all he does is glance between Hal and his bedroom door. Knowing it’d be pointless to run, Hal trails back in after him and gets comfortable on his bed expectant that he’ll get some kind of contempt for his good deed. 

The room stays quiet aside from a few clicks of a mouse and the occasional tapping of keys. Hal wants to say something and almost does, but he’s waiting until Dirk speaks first. He assumes it’s his twin’s attempt at intimidating him or something along those lines, as he actually can’t imagine him exploding. The closest he gets to that is their pesterchum conversations, but Dirk’s always been better at expressing himself through text than physically. 

At least, he usually was. It comes as a surprise when the typing stops and Dirk finally turns to face Hal sprawled out on his bed, as if he hadn’t done anything to draw his ire. 

“Strip,” Dirk orders, just as emotionless as his expression, and it sends a shiver down Hal’s spine even though he makes no effort to move. He just stares at him, willing himself to stay seated and enjoying the way Dirk looks at him far too much.

“Hal, don’t make me repeat myself,” Dirk adds as he gives in and crosses the short distance between his desk and the bed. Hal continues to stay still and quiet, but the grin stretched across his face gives away the fact he’s well aware of what game his twin is invoking and he’s just so delighted to get attention. 

It feels good when Dirk’s hands rip his shirt off for him. It feels good when his fingers touch him, grip him, and he can feel the way he wants to claw him apart and relieve that anger and tension. It feels good that he’s feeling so, so close to someone else and staring at a ceiling that’s similar, but blissfully different than his own. 

“Is it really that funny to you?” Dirk asks, a thread of anger actually tangible beneath his words. Hal’s breathing is labored as his chest is littered in fine trails left from fingernails and fresh bruising carrying the indents of his twin’s teeth. Faintly, he wonders if the words directed at him are only because the laugh he intended to keep in his head actually made it past his lips when he wasn’t paying attention. 

He’s hovering above Hal, waiting for an answer, but all he gives in return is a sharp tug of Dirk’s T-shirt drawing him down into a hard kiss that’s more teeth than tongue. There’s no way he can tell him he was only laughing because he was happy. Happy that his stupid, prideful brother was acknowledging him, and even if it hurt, he was enjoying the attention. 

As close as they were, there were things they couldn’t share and feelings they never knew how to handle. Hal would take in Dirk’s bottled up anger because it never bothered him to be the center of it. Ultimately, it’d be flipped around another time and sometimes this was the only way he knew how to feel close to him these days. Somewhere along the line, Dirk stopped trusting him, and Hal didn’t know how to fix it. He knew that his actions would only feed the misconceptions. At this point though, if this was all he could manage to get from the other, stroking such a fire seemed worth it compared to trying to put it out. 

He loved Dirk, but he also loved this side to him. Loved to watch the carefully composed facade that he put on for everyone else where he was cool and capable crumble into a desperate, angry mess. It felt more genuine, this version of Dirk. Truer to the brother he was used to and the one he knew better than anyone. 

He wasn’t going to rely on him for help in any form anymore so this was the only way Hal knew how to make him. The outcome was all that mattered to him. Even if Dirk didn’t understand, everything he did was always in his best interests. Thoughts like that only make him laugh though because when he’s able to recognize it, Dirk was the same exact way. 

It’s satisfying seeing the twitch in Dirk’s shoulders as his repeated laughter gets through to him once again and sure enough gloved fingers are grasping at his throat. He’d never kill him. He’d never even really hurt him. On some level, Dirk must know what it meant when Hal did these things, especially since he’d only encourage his twin, coax him into pushing further and further. 

Hal moans as the digits and Dirk physically press down on him. He’s just as hard, and with hazy eyes he enjoys the panting open-mouthed face directed his way. 

“Please,” he wheezes when Dirk lets up enough and it’s embarrassing to give up acting defiant. He wants Dirk closer though, and feels so good knowing that once he’s reached this point, it’s all his twin really wants. If he got off on making him break composure, than of course Dirk would be the same way. 

Hal sits up with Dirk to finish shucking off his pants and underwear as his twin digs for lubricant and gets his own pants off. It all feels rushed, but slows down almost immediately as Dirk can’t help teasing now that he has Hal broken down like he wants him. Everything is too much and not enough. 

“You want it that bad, huh?” Dirk starts, letting condescension color his tone. He grips Hal’s chin and makes him look at him, demanding an answer. Seems like his silence isn’t going to cut it anymore.

“You’re the one who made things out like this, bro; I was just trying to help you out. It seems like you’re the one who wants it ‘bad’,” Hal mocks back, unable to really stop himself from arguing. He’s half lying anyway seeing as there was a 72% chance things would turn out like this because they typically did. A convenient statistic he calculated before entering Dirk’s room and touching his things. Even if he knew that though, it didn’t change the fact that his twin decided to act on it. Dirk grabs the wrists he’d left uselessly dangling in midair after making finger quotes, and Hal doesn’t actually move to fight him when he’s pushed down on the bed. 

“You’re really going to sit here and act like you didn’t orchestrate this? Face it Hal, you like pissing me off. I just don’t know why I let you.”

Dirk doesn’t keep him pinned for long —content to see him obeying, if not verbally, at least physically. That and he evidently was busy with moving things along if the finger entering him had anything to do with it. 

“Au contraire, brother dearest, it’s your fault for — _ ah _ , making your buttons so easily pressed,” He begins to counter, but for as good as he is at multitasking, having coherent thoughts is surprisingly difficult while being finger fucked. 

Dirk fixes him a stare that Hal only guesses the meaning of considering the other still had his shades on. It’s not too hard to figure out anyway. He doesn’t need to be an ace detective to tell when either of his brothers are calling his bullshit. The point stops mattering in seconds anyway as his twin curls his fingers and cuts off whatever else he had wanted to say. 

Judging by the barely there upturn of his mouth, he seems pleased at the lack of retort, and adds another finger to the mix. Hal’s biting his tongue in an effort to stay quiet, which quickly shifts things back to the atmosphere prior. He might be doing it out of spite, and no doubt Dirk knows that and is taking it as a challenge. The teeth biting on his lower lip is just what he wants and while his twin had only done it to invoke a more honest verbal reaction, Hal doesn’t mind giving in when it’s like this. At least from here, he’s able to twist things around and almost greedily takes advantage of the mouth on his, using his tongue to draw just as desperate noises out of Dirk. 

He wants him closer. He needs him this close, and quickly Hal is finding purchase by gripping his twin’s shoulders and letting his nails dig in. It disguises just how irritatingly needy he suddenly feels, and whether Dirk can discern anything is unclear, but ultimately, unimportant. Dirk ends up pulling away from the kiss and Hal for once can’t tell what his expression means. He stares down at him, fingers stilling as he certainly was stretched enough by this point. 

The silence is agonizing.

“You gonna’ fuck me?” Hal eventually teases, tugging on the metaphorical rope they seem to share and thankfully it seems to snap his brother out of whatever temporary lapse he’d fallen into. Good thing, too. If he kept staring any longer, they might actually have a serious conversation and if that ain’t the fastest way to kill a boner. He ignores the ache in his chest as Dirk moves away from him entirely. There was a reason he came in here and he intends to see it through. 

“Turn around,” comes the clipped order as Dirk works at slipping a condom on and Hal simply does what he says for once. It’s jarring sometimes how quickly they switch like this. For a brief moment, that affection he’d wanted was in reach, but just as easily it slips away and Hal is forced to remember that this was actually their relationship now. 

He ignores it as he feels his brother push in, blunt nails digging into his hips. He ignores it as even with that in mind Dirk waits and waits and Hal has to tell him to move already. 

“You’re getting,” Hal pants, “sloppy bro. That code was so easy to fix.” He hates that he can’t see his face as he says these things. 

“Were you actually — _ fuck _ — just embarrassed to ask for help? ‘Cause I’d see how simple a fuck up it was?”

The slap is startling, but not unwelcome. Hal puffs out a snicker, which is broken off by yet another spanking. He doesn’t even need to say anything to provoke the next one. By this point though it’s distracting enough that between it and being fucked, he’s stopped trying to pretend it doesn’t feel good. Something Dirk is all too smug about likely. 

It’s easier to focus on the way his hands feel against him, the way they’re connected. He knows why his brother wanted to fuck him like this, but Hal hates it because he wants to bite him and kiss him and feel so close again. Sometimes, he really hates Dirk. Moments like now, when even if he were honest, he can’t help the way all his points get lost. He loves him precisely because he’d go to this length for him. He’d take in all that irritation and refusal, but he also hates that his twin doesn’t get it and won’t make it any easier for him. 

“You’re such an asshole. If you were horny or bored, why turn it into,” Dirk pauses to grunt, “a fucking game.”

“A  _ fucking _ game,” Hal snorts, feeling Dirk’s nails drag across his sides seconds later. Of course, he’d look at things like that. 

“You  _ know _ what I mean,” Dirk hisses as he leans more solidly onto Hal’s back. The contact spurs him into trying to meet Dirk’s thrusts with his hips. He tilts his head to the side, but the angle still leaves his brother just out of reach. It’s easy to read the frustration creasing his twin’s brow now though, teeth clenched in concentration, annoyance or both. Hal wants to kiss him so badly. 

He looks away as he feels Dirk touch his cock because he doesn’t want to give anything away. Comparatively, his fingers are gentle. Teasing is what he was likely going for, but the contrast only brings a burning behind his eyelids. Embarrassingly, once his brother actually strokes him properly, he comes faster than he had wanted to. It takes Dirk a bit longer, but admittedly for as neurotically attentive Hal tries to be, between the time he comes and the time he feels Dirk’s hips stop, he can’t recall much of anything. 

It’s belated, but cognitively only then does Hal register that their conversation broke off on a question his brother likely meant as rhetorical.

“Weren’t gonna’ accept my help otherwise,” He answers his twin simply enough. There’s no immediate response and it figures that for all the times he hopes Dirk will understand, now is the time he chooses to read the situation. 

“Why do you do this if it just makes you upset? If you’re gonna’ cry, don’t come in here and mess with my shit,” Dirk finally says, and Hal wishes he’d just let him go. The words are surprisingly soft compared to how things started, as no doubt their actions only dulled their former angry edge. It should feel relieving, but the particular lexicon of his comment is what ends up provoking Hal.

“I’m not crying,” Hal snipes back, his defense muted. His words irritate him mostly because there was no reason for him to cry, so he’s sure it’s just another attempt to berate him. Dirk’s still holding him from behind, but not looking at him. His twin wouldn’t know anything, and why should he care anyway? Wasn’t he just yelling at him earlier? 

If Dirk understands just what’s going on, why does he let him get away with it then? He wants to twist around and call out that needling habit of his just as eagerly. How he won’t ask for help or support and makes Hal need to stoop to such methods to drag him out of it. Worse yet, that he  _ knows _ it would have been easier to tell him to get out, and let things simmer exploding at a later date. 

Once, maybe when this first started, he knew what it felt like to be loved in this manner, but lately whenever he’s held like this it’s only pleasant for the brief time he can see that Dirk actually means it. He’s defending his actions and justifying it in the only way he knows how because Hal hurt him first. Hal will always hurt him first, only if it means something better for Dirk. His stupid brother knows that though, and the guilt seeping out through the ever gentle brush of fingers tracing still stinging hickeys on his chest is really what makes him want to cry.

“Since you’re not using your bed and you’re nowhere near done, I’m gonna’ crash here for now. I’m sure you have no qualms about pushing me off if you decide to take a nap so just… do that,” Hal ends up finishing lamely. His brain’s been begging to shut off somewhere between Dirk slapping his ass and then trying to seem like he actually gave a shit. Not about the ass slapping, Hal knows how he feels about that, but the jumbled emotional mess that was whatever they were supposed to mean to one another now. 

Something in his chest squeezes painfully when his twin grips him closer, his head still affixed into the crook between his head and shoulder. The gesture has Hal swallow uncomfortably. 

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” Dirk eventually answers, holding him for a moment more before retreating to his desk—which Hal only knows from the familiar squeak it makes upon presumably turning back to face the monitor. He hates how cold he feels now. He hates that Dirk doesn’t stay or apologize properly, but it’s just like he said. Like a five-year old, he pointed his finger and said ‘You started it!’ without ever needing to really say that at all. 

Hal should feel content that Dirk gave him something at least or that he evidently got some of that overclocked stress out, but in the end, he can’t really bring himself to feel anything. If he thinks too hard about it, he might actually start to feel bothered like he should. If he does that it’d defeat the purpose, though, he wonders if Dirk would even notice.

Slipping his eyes closed, he lets himself get comfortable and simply hopes Dave will come home soon. He’s better at handling Dirk than him without there being any collateral damage. 

**Author's Note:**

> cmon and........ ache with me
> 
> as usual if i missed tagging anything or have any particularly embarrassing typos/edits that need done feel free to let me know!


End file.
